


Ouch.

by xoinks



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 00:57:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5950152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xoinks/pseuds/xoinks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hydrogen peroxide on open wounds, is an old wives remedy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ouch.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [featherliterature](https://archiveofourown.org/users/featherliterature/gifts).



> I realized, after writing this, Featherliterature requested them to both be older in the prompt, and since I neglected a love confession in this one--your other two prompts will be filled ASAP, to make up for this. A million apologies! 
> 
> I loved this, it was so fun!

"It's nothing."

  
  
The familiar 'tsk' accompanied his words - followed shortly after by a warm rag being slapped onto pale skin. Saruhiko hissed, and drew his arm backwards, shooting daggers at his comrade.   
  
It was a cold, muggy evening. The dynamic duo had been sent on a small side-mission, only to find themselves trapped in something much bigger. A drug lord, accompanied by a few of his lackies, had gotten cocky and were bragging about something or another, down a dark alley. Misaki, being Misaki, threw a temper tantrum, and....well, they made it out.

  
  
Just barely.  
  
"Come on, Saru,"  
  
Misaki scoffed, haphazardly wiping at the wound on his arm. Saruhiko choked out something inaudible, snatching the warm rag from Misaki's grasp, and tossing it to the side.   
  
"Stop being such a baby!!! That doesn't fucking hurt!"

  
Oh, but it did. 

  
You see, Misaki was using an age old trick; one that most modern societies had done away with, because of modern inventions. It was once said, that pouring hydrogen peroxide into open wounds, cleansed and promoted new tissue growth. Obviously, this was not the case, and often caused more damage than healing.  
  
If Saruhiko had only seen the liquid Misaki had poured onto the rag, before allowing him anywhere near his arm...

  
  
"It does--"  
  
Saruhiko's voice was flat; there was no edge of complaint, or pain. But Misaki knew it was there. Because the boy bottled everything up, and was partners with the one who wore his heart on his sleeve. It was so easy to read, when something was up. Getting him to admit it, however, was another story entirely.  
  
"Just let me clean it, or it's going to get fucking infected again!"  
  
"Since when are you a doctor?"  
  
"I swear to god, Saru--"  
  
"Go play your game, and buzz off. I'll clean it myself"

  
  
Misaki was growing increasingly tired of the back, and forth banter. He knew Saruhiko always neglected to take care of his injuries. Anytime they got injured in a fight, sure enough, three days later Saru's arm would be leaking puss, or sporting some gross smells and colors on the surrounding skin.  
  
Lost in his own thoughts, he contemplated if he would really have to smack Saruhiko upside the head with a frying pan, just to get him to stay still. Unfortunately, in the time this thought process was taking to try to come alive, Saruhiko had stumbled across the brown bottle, nestled in the medicine bag.  
  
The stark, white words read clear on the label.  
  
Hydrogen peroxide.

  
Saruhiko's fingers twitched around the bottle.  
  
"Is this what you put on that rag?"  
  
"Well, yeah. It bubbles and shit in the wound, and cleans it out properly, since you won't!!"  
  
"Tch, you...you moron. This is the most useless remedy, you've ever come up with. That bubbling eats away tissue too, you know..."

  
  
Misaki scoffed again, and tried to snatch the bottle from Saruhiko's hands, increasingly aware of the agitated look on his friend's increasingly paling face.  
  
"Y-Yeah!!! Like I said, it eats all the bad tissue, and makes sure the new shit can grow in, and stuff--"  
  
"That's not how that works, you reckless--"  
  
"Don't call me names, for trying to help you, ungrateful Saru!"

  
  
The volume was increasing, with each vocalization they shared. Misaki's blood was boiling, his increasing frustration at being corrected when he was only trying to help, becoming readily apparent.  
  
Saruhiko kept the same bored look on his face, only his eyebrows knit together, and his frown was much more prominent.

  
  
"Maybe I won't help you anymore, if y-you fucking get a cut in your arm!!"  
  
"I never asked for it, Mi-sa--"  
  
Misaki shoved his palms over his friend's mouth, before the sing-song name escaped Saruhiko's lips. He didn't like it; the way he skipped over every syllable, and let his name roll off his tongue. It was only recently he had began to hiss the end, like a snake. It wasn't like him, it wasn't like him...

  
  
"Don't call me that. I told you not to, in HOMRA."  
  
Saruhiko rolled his eyes, and spoke best he could, through sweaty, calloused fingertips,  
  
"We're alone - in a room above the bar. Give me a break."  
  
"Shut it, Saru!"

  
  
In the corner of his eye, he saw movement, and felt Saruhiko twitch slightly underneath his hold. The hydrogen bottle was kicked to the other side of the room, and Misaki immediately drew his hands away, swearing under his breath. The other boy took his chance, and kicked him lightly, lurching to his feet, and making a break for the bathroom. Misaki knew exactly what he was doing, and grabbed at his ankle, yanking him back to the ground.  
  
"Oh, hell no!! You are not taking a shower, with that shit. If soap gets in that, it's going to hurt worse than if I dumped a whole bottle of that shit in your cut."

  
  
The night consisted of much cursing, name calling, and Saruhiko's desperate attempts to grab his phone, and shove the stinging liquid's disclaimer, about pouring it into open wounds, in Misaki's face.

 

\------

  
  
Turned out he was right. 

  
Three days later, Saruhiko was sporting not an infection, but a cut with burns at the edging. Misaki refused to answer their comrades, when they pointed out he was so adamant about keeping those wounds clean this time.

 

Saruhiko didn't say a thing.


End file.
